We are friends, you and I, right? Sure, you’re a justifiably proud nation and I am just some guy in the U.S.. You don’t know I exist and I can’t help or hurt you in any way.

I consider us friends. We’re certainly not enemies. We don’t stir things up about each other, we don’t fight. I can sing your anthem. It isn’t a problem that you can’t sing a song about me. There aren’t many of them out there, so I won’t hold it against you.

Remember that time I pretended to be from you? No one could believe I got away with it, especially me. Get away with it, I did, Canada. Getting away with it tells me something, we’re good together. We’re different from one another, but we’re good. So good, that I’m just going to come out and ask you to do something for me.

Come get your geese. Yes, the Canada Geese, come get them. Every one of them.

I love practical jokes. Practical jokes involving nature are especially good. I once lured hundreds of Japanese beetles into someones car, that was so great. Some day I’ll tell you how to do it. Today is not that day. Today we’re talking about your well executed practical joke.

My stunt involved hundreds of bugs. Yours is so much better and on such a grand scale. Millions of giant, aggressive geese everywhere we turn. If we happen to find a part of the U.S. that doesn’t have a Canada Goose on it, there is almost certainly goose poop left from the last time the flock stopped by that spot.

Oh god, the poop. Do you have any idea how long that stuff lasts? Of course you do, that’s part of the joke! If there were an Olympic medal for practical jokes, you’d be on the top platform singing Oh Canada with gold hanging around your neck. I respect your work.

Ha ha ha ha, I get it! Come get your geese. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Unfortunately, the joke has gone beyond being funny.

Now, when I say it isn’t funny, I’m not even bringing up the time your geese brought down that airliner in New York. We probably agree that was scary and that there’s no way you could have foreseen your feathered poop machines would do that. It all worked out in the end.

But – the first few years, funny. Now, not funny. It seems like this joke will never end. It is unavoidable. Don’t get me wrong, sending Celine Dion down here was pretty funny too. Funny, but we can avoid her by changing radio stations. Also she doesn’t just squat and drop a deuce anywhere she wants. We can’t escape the geese or their poo. Please come get them.

We’ll clean up the poop, just come get your geese. Don’t make me come up there and put balloons on all your tailpipes. Come get the geese.

It is the right thing to do.

Love you all,

Oma

I have reliable information that a certain Blurt reader and fellow blogger had a big part in sending geese across the Canadian border to visit the U.S.. I am giving her a pass on this offense because she featured Blurt as one of her Blogs Of Other Bloggers (BOOBS).

I am once again glad I was not drinking milk when reading your words of wisdom. Because if I were I am sure I it would have shot out my nose! Well done and in the words of a couple of the worlds biggest boobs “Huh huh huh huh, He said poop”.

You think that’s bad. You live in the part of the country where I do where hundreds of species pass through on their migratory paths from Canada to Mexico each year, you taklin’ ’bout a lot a bird shit.

I hear tell that a speckled color car design is in the works for this region so that it will allow all the bird poop your car gets hit with not to be so noticeable.

There is a small pond adjacent to a grocery store on a fairly busy strip-mall type stretch of road. Naturally, it has attracted dozens of the aggressive poop-machines. During the busiest travel times of the day, packs of them (or is this where the word gaggle applies?) will line up and leisurely cross the road backing up traffic for a mile. It’s such a common problem that signs are posted informing drivers that it’s illegal to hit them (really? there should be a prize for it.) But from time to time, a driver will snap out with impatience and mow through the line.

I grew up in Rockland County New York where you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting a family of aggressive, entitled Canadian Geese. While that whole case scenario may seem like a heinous act of animal abuse, it pales in comparison to the thousands of miles I ran in my childhood while one of those disgruntled birds chased me.
Now I live in Washington DC, and I’m happy to report that I have yet to encounter one of these pests.
I’m wondering if the sharpshooters on the roof of the White House have orders to aim and fire when they see them flying in formation:)

We don’t want them back! But if all of the offended Americans would opt to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving (in addition to your regularly-scheduled Thanksgiving, of course), and each family snagged one goose for dinner, the problem would quickly be solved. What an awesome new tradition that would be: Canada goose for Canada’s Thanksgiving. Do it!

Oh, don’t even get me started!! When I lived in Minnesota, I blamed Canada for our cold weather but that’s nothing compared to the GEESE problem. You Canadians come down here and clean up the poop, too, cuz my dogs will eat it if you don’t! Damn your hides!

I’m cool with us just getting rid of the poop because I respect the joke so much. I mean they live everywhere except dc, they’re aggressive, they’re making more AND they are all in gastric distress! The joke just kept unfolding. I love them for coming up with it, but enough!

I don’t know what you are talking about. I have never seen them before in my life. I will apologize on behalf of my country for both Celine Dion and Justin Bieber however, we have a strict no return policy.

I’m Canadian and I’m completely terrified of geese. Is that unpatriotic? Seriously, if you get too close and invade their territory or whatever, they hiss at you. I heard that if you don’t run away after they hiss, then they bite you in the butt.
So good luck with that.

In defense of your geese, she’d heard that they were afraid of shiny things and she undertook a mission to stick something shiny in the middle of a nest in our parking lot. Not really a good choice on her part.